30 May 2008


Strange day. Work was the same as always with the exception of having a resident who had never seen the E=mc2-surgery-on-speedballs specialty of Dr. Bigdaddy and his cohort Mr. Weird. I overheard a series of conversations that just made me wonder.
Example the first: overheard on the way to the parking garage. Let me set the scene: A sunlit tableau with our three players in a small group, not unlike 3 flies on a pile of horse apples. They are a hospital employed "flashlight cop," some yutz from maintenance, and some dude in half a pair of scrubs that probably works near the incinerator or elsewhere inhaling toxic fumes as he makes his minimum wage. The following is the part of the conversation I heard:

Unidentified one of the three (cuz at this point I just wanted to GET TO MY CAR!) ".....he had a sawed-off shotgun in his backpack, didn't he?

Flashlight Cop: "Yeah, he did."

Maintenance Yutz: "I wish I'd have known that when I first seen him."

Really? And what, pray tell, would you have done? One wonders what magical crime fighting tool you would pull from your maintenance utility belt to disarm him. Especially in light of the fact that you yahoos can't seem to grasp the concept of why it would be "bad" to turn off our power when we have a patient that is breathing by virtue of an electrified machine. ("Well, the generator will turn on in a minute or two.")

Example the second: In the return line at my favorite "burn up some money" store, the young lady in front of us on her cell, with more hardware in her face than the engine compartment in my car: "Like, he beat him up, and like, then he went to jail, cuz I guess he like, had a concussion." (other person undoubtedly responds) "Well, like yeah! I told him, like, you can't go around hitting people." While I share her concern that there are people getting angry enough to sock others and cause head trauma, I was deeply troubled by her working vocabulary. What was it, 1500 words? Read a book, hon. Or at least skim "Increase Your Word Power" in Reader's Digest.

Last was just the fact that I put $93 in my gas tank today. Nice going, Einstein. Get rid of the paid off minivan with gas mileage of about 21 for the shiny trinket with the MPG of 15 on a good day. Way to make a responsible choice. I could try to find somewhere that sells E85 and at least salve my conscience that I'm doing my part to decrease the dependence petroleum based products. But, that would require me to overcome my basic laziness, I probably can't find anything local anyway, and then I would be uptight and fuming the rest of the night, thereby exacerbating my already raging insomnia.

Last thing on this ramble, then it's off to find something productive to do... three of my favorite people I've never met are on their way home(s). Big sigh of relief and Happy Trails to LT Nixon, Suspect, and Toy Soldier. If you've never perused, you've missed something. I've really enjoyed reading their posts. For fun click on the links in the sidebars, but I'd stay away from Tucker Max (notice: NO hyperlink) unless you want to spend a few days trying to figure out how to scrub away the images his writing has burned into your frontal lobes. Godspeed, fellas!

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